“Then I needst must have cheated the boy, for I have not an old Harry Groat in my pocket,” answered Tabbard, spreading his hands open before him, with palms turned up.
“It is not safe to trust one’s animal with rope and post in these fields nor in this lane,” said Marlowe in the tone of an adviser.
“Well a boy held two horses near where I tied mine to a tree not a great way from this opening. But for the fog I could see him. And I said ‘keep an eye on him. He can not be held.’”
“Which was false, undoubtedly,” nodded Marlowe, smiling.
“Ay, for the brute needs spurs for walking smooth roads. But the watching required no labor.”
“And I suppose that your horse is a pleasing sight to look upon,” said the other.
“True, Sir Kit, and so the score will be even.”
“Was one horse gray that the boy held, and one black, and did the boy wear a cap and stand under an apple tree next to the Priory wall?”
“That is all true,” responded Tabbard.
“Well, the gray horse is mine,” said Marlowe.